


Let's Take it To the Grave

by ItsDimitri



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:29:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22811017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsDimitri/pseuds/ItsDimitri
Summary: :)titled after skulls by bastille, my personal favorite jonmartin song :)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Kudos: 26





	Let's Take it To the Grave

The walk out of the Lonely was far shorter than the walk in. Perhaps something to do with the fact that they were together now. The chill from there had not left Martin though. It was the chill that you get after you’ve been soaked though. It lingers. There’s an ache in every joint, he flexes the hand that isn’t holding Jon’s to try and get some more blood into his fingers. It doesn’t work.  
As the grey fog eventually fades to dark brick work and the slightly salty air turns to the dank mustiness of the Panopticon, Jon slows to a stop. Martin looks at him, follows his gaze to Magnus’ body.  
“I have to say, I’m very glad he decided to body hop… the years have not been kind to him.”  
Martin snorts at the unexpected, but very much needed joke. “I dunno…I think maybe just some face cream and he’d do fine.” The bit of humor warms him, the ache in his joints (and in his heart) lessens a bit.  
Jon looks back up at him. Smiles a very happy smile despite their current surroundings and events that lead them here. He brings their joined hands up to his lips, kisses the back of Martin’s hand. Brings Martin’s other hand around to him, smooths his thumb over the back of it before also kissing it, continues his ministrations on to his knuckles. He almost repeats it on the first hand again when he sees Basira standing in the entrance looking both exhausted and relieved to see them  
“No please, don’t stop on my account. Glad to see you’re both still breathing. And dawdling…” she says as she walks over to them, looking for any obvious wounds. “and Jon, how is it that you’re always covered in blood, even if it’s not your fault? I take it that Lukas is ya know…” she punctuates this with a raise of her eyebrows.  
Jon nods and gives a hum as affirmation.  
“Well, serves him right then.” She remembers the canvas bag she has in her hand then. “Right well, I suppose the two of you should get going then. Here,” she hands the bag to Martin, “there’s some cash I found in Lukas’ office, some of Jon’s clothes, your notebooks and a couple of statements I don’t think have been read should you get peckish on your way to Scotland.”  
Martin looks in the bag, the envelope which he presumed to be the stolen cash was thick. “Scotland? What’s there that we have to go right away?”  
“Daisy had-has a safe house about an hour or so north of Edinburg, the highlands really. Real pretty. Quiet. Free of the police that will keep you for questioning.”  
“Is Daisy…” Jon trails off, knowing the answer wouldn’t be  
“She did it to protect the- she did it to protect me. And I’m going to find her. So don’t you dare try to stop me. I know what I’m getting into.”  
“Right…the institute, is it safe?”  
Basira laughs, “you’re kidding me right? Of course it’s not safe, it was never safe to begin with, and now it’s crawling with police. Which is why you need to get out of here. There’s an overnight in about three hours out of Kings Cross but that might be cutting it a bit close especially since you’ll need to get some amount supplies before you leave. There’s another tomorrow evening, same time, same place but you’ll have to lie low till then.  
Martin looks at Jon. Jon squeezes his hand in return, a silent ‘we’ll be okay’, before Martin looks back at Basira. “We can do that. Get supplies, be quiet, leave tomorrow.”  
“Good. Call me when you settle in for the night.”  
A nod from Jon and a ‘will do’ from Martin has them walking out of that wretched room that holds Magnus’ body and toward a split in the tunnels, one leading back into the Archives, another out and towards a safe house in Scotland.  
-  
The walk from the tunnel exit to Jon’s flat passes in relative silence, the events of the day weighing the both of them down, and there are moments when Martin thinks he sees that grey fog beginning to creep back in, or the ache caused by the cold seems to intensify, but he can still feel Jon’s hand in his. The occasional squeeze, almost as if Jon is worried Martin will become wispy and barely tangible like he was in the Lonely. He runs his thumb over the back of Jon’s hand, and he can feel the scars left by Prentiss’ attack, and the burn left by Jude Perry, and he can feel how warm Jon is compared to him, and through all of this, Martin knows that Jon will be there.  
Once inside, Jon makes quick work of locks and closing the curtains, then goes about making sure Martin is as comfortable as possible, which also involves stripping him down to his undershirt and boxers and then putting him in a dark green wool jumper and very worn, but fit after undoing the ties, pajama pants and throwing his jeans into the dryer, he hadn’t even realized he was wet. Said jumper was even a bit big on him, which meant Jon would be absolutely swallowed by it when he wore it. He smiled at the thought.  
It caught Jon’s attention as he placed hastily folded clothes in a black duffle bag that looked like it had seen much, much better days. “What?”  
“Jumper’s nice…though you’re probably swimming in it when you wear it right? ‘S cute.  
Jon gives him an indignant look. “It’s cozy in the winter thank you very much.”  
He goes back to packing before he stops again. Martin quirks an eye brow as he sits on Jon’s bed.  
“Do you need anything?”  
“Like what?”  
“Tea, coffee, food, anything?” Jon was looking at him with an earnest look, like he desperately needed to cater to Martin’s every need. Martin knew the look well though, he had seen it enough to know what it meant. Even if he couldn’t Know, he knew Jon.  
“How bout I make us tea, you finish packing your things, then we can go to my flat and get take out.” Martin took Jon’s hands in his and pulled the smaller man towards him. “We’ll be fine. I promise. Now…” he said as he stood up, “finish packing…and try not to forget anything too obvious alright?” He gave Jon’s hands a squeeze before going into the kitchen to put the kettle on.  
-  
Back at Martin’s flat there were several more bags being packed, one with clothes, one with the few dried and canned food stuffs he happened to still have, and one that was solely dedicated to several of Jon’s books, a dammed tape recorder, Martin’s record player (which was followed with ‘really Martin, is it really necessary?’ and ‘yes it is Jon.’), a few records (obviously, but also had some of Jon’s input as to what was brought), and several blankets (“it gets cold up north Jon”).  
When the packing was done and food was delivered, Jon and Martin were pressed close to one another, somehow managing to eat their noodles without dropping any while watching a movie on Jon’s laptop. It was nice. The physical contact with Jon. Martin knew that for the moment  
Eventually they decided they’d had enough of the film and decided to call it a night.


End file.
